


A Lesson in Redemption

by perpetual_danger



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetual_danger/pseuds/perpetual_danger
Summary: Hob Gadling has lived a long, long life.
Relationships: Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling/Various Women
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	A Lesson in Redemption

Hob Gadling wasn’t a great man. In his immortal life, he had done some pretty bad things, things that he regretted.

Hob Gadling didn’t think of himself as a god. He knew gods, and he was nothing like them. He liked to imagine, though, if he was a god, that he would be a god of friendship and the ending of loneliness. He would be the god of brothers not of blood, and families found where there once was not.

He probably wouldn’t though. He wasn’t a good man, not by anyone’s standards. In his centuries of living, he had done some terrible things, and he knew it would be a long time before he forgave himself. He hadn’t always been nice to all the women he met, and the slave trade was still a tough subject, one where he would get a sinking feeling in his stomach and rush to the bathroom. The demons in his head remind him that feeling sick didn’t gain him the forgiveness from all of those he had wronged.

If he looks back and counts, he’s had 15 wives through the course of his long life, only a few of whom he can say that he truly loved. In the end, he still had to pack up and leave before they realized that his hair never greyed, his eyes never tired, and his face never creased with wrinkles. He was happy for a while with Eleanor, a lovely woman with good humor and a gorgeous smile. He thinks he loved her, but perhaps it was only the guilt he felt at her death that twists his memory.

He still isn’t sure.

Robyn died around the year 1650, and it’s been too long since he could remember the year, nevermind the exact date. He remembers what it was like; the commotion in the tavern, the crashing, the chaos, yelling at his only son _(“be a man, beat him down -that’s a lad- beat him down!”)_ before the opponent sent a powerful right hook which sent Robyn’s head careening into the tavern’s bar. Some wounds don’t heal.

He had a daughter at one point in the mid-1800s, and unlike Robyn, Ida lived a full life and raised children of her own. He left Helen and Ida before she reached 15, in the middle of the night and with soft kisses to the forehead. He stopped to see her once when she was nearing 40, claiming to be her half brother and she looked at him with tight lips and suspicious eyes. He left quickly after that.

As life moves on, Hob Gadling, a man with a long list of mistakes, tries to be nicer. He gives spare change to the people sitting on the streets, smiles kindly at the barista at the cafe, asks her about her kids and how they’re getting on at school. She tells him they’re doing fine. There’s a diner down the street that he goes to often; it reminds him of the one that he frequented in the 1950s. He tips extra to the nervous waitress who confesses that it’s her first week working there. She gets his order a little bit sideways, but the food is alright, and she seems to have enough on her shoulders.

He asks her out a few months after meeting her, her soft smile and sharp wit keeps him on his toes. He buys her tickets to the natural history museum: she had mentioned in passing how she had gone there once and wanted badly to go again. It was worth the sub-par cafeteria food to be dragged by the hand from exhibit to exhibit, her eyes lighting up and hands flying as she spouted off, rapid speed, everything she knew about the subjects. They got married a few years later, and she decided to hyphenate their names, and it was enough that this brilliant woman would be by his side. He was happy, he realized.

Maybe growing old wouldn’t be so bad.

~

He would dream of being a god, of friendship and found family, of the end of longing, and forgiving those who had wronged you. Morpheus came to him one night while he thought of all the things that could be but wouldn’t, and stood with him as the dream melted away with the morning sun.

_Redemption, old friend. You’d be the god of redemption._

And as he came to the waking world with the sight of a halo of messy golden hair, of a sleep-creased face, of tired eyes fluttering awake, he couldn’t help but think that that might be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first published fic and I'm very, Very proud of it. I hope you guys enjoyed this, I might try something like this again :33


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